


Chrome, Leather, and Skin

by sistersophie



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 04:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sistersophie/pseuds/sistersophie
Summary: Richard's lady takes advantage of him on a hot summer afternoon.





	Chrome, Leather, and Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Recent photos of Hammond on a motorbike have woken up my Muse a bit.

I’ll never know what inspired Richard to add on a bedroom to his motorcycle shed, but on a hot day like this, it’s obvious to me that it was sheer genius at work. You just never know when the urge for some kinky sex will strike.

He’s been tinkering with one of his Ducatis today, while I relax in the main house, trying to keep cool with a fan and a reasonably good novel. The windows are wide open, and occasionally I can hear Richard drop a tool and swear as he struggles to get the bike back in fighting form.

I take pity on him at one point and bring him a glass of cold lemonade. He accepts it with a smile. “I’ve turned the corner on this one, love. Should only be another half hour or so. Mind if I take her for a spin when she’s done?”

“I don’t mind in the least,” I say, but my devious mind is thinking about someone else who’d like to be taken somewhere – that would be me, of course. 

“Thanks,” he says, turning back to his work. I go back into the house, pour another glass for myself, and open the book again. This time I’m able to concentrate a little better, and it’s a bit of a surprise when I hear the Ducati’s engine sputter to life.

“You lovely thing!” I can hear Richard’s triumphant shout even over the considerable noise of the machine. It does sound good, even to my untrained ear. He cuts it off a few seconds later, and I can hear him come into the entryway to put on his riding gear.

I finish another couple of paragraphs in my book. Richard steps in, all kitted up, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Well, I’m off.”

“Safe trip.”

“Always.” He blows me a kiss and closes the door gently behind him. The Ducati starts right up again, and I set my book down once more and watch out the window as he rides off. His leather-clad legs straddle the bike, and I feel a rush of desire in my nether regions.

“Mr. Hammond,” I say out loud, standing up and stretching, “you are going to get a nice surprise when you get home.”

But, first things first. I go out to the shed, retrieve the empty glass and take it to the kitchen for a wash. Then I check myself in the bathroom, splashing some cool water on my face and patting it dry. I brush my hair and find a breath mint in one of the cabinets. I am wearing a flowery summer top and comfortable shorts, but I can feel the perspiration under my bra strap. It will be nice to get everything off.

Soon.

I go back out into the shed and open the door to the little bedroom. Before I’d moved in here, Richard would often use this space to nap when he was working on his bikes. There’s even a small shower and loo attached. Except for taking his meals, he would practically live out here if he was particularly involved in a rebuilding project.

I’d taken a fancy to the bedroom when I first saw it, and made a few changes – found a bigger bed, put some nice carpeting in, and even had a stereo system installed. It is a cosy place in which to spend a summer evening.

I turn on some light music, sit down on the bed, and wait.

It’s only about fifteen minutes before I hear the distant rumble of the Ducati’s engine on its return journey. I get to my feet, pull back the covers, and go back into the garage.

Richard pulls in, brings the bike to a stop, and shuts off the motor. The silence hits my ears like a thunderclap.

He takes off his helmet. “Hello, there.”

“Hi.” I lean up invitingly against the wall. “Did you have a nice ride?”

“I did.” He grins at me, and God, do I want him. Right now. He doesn’t get off the bike, just hangs his helmet over the handlebar and sits there. His expression becomes thoughtful. “Would you like a ride of your own?”

“Yes, Richard.”

“Well, then.” He swallows, then says more firmly, “You might want to give us some privacy.”

The switch is just behind me. I push it and watch as the garage door rolls smoothly into place. Richard waits patiently until it’s all the way down.

“Good,” he says at last. “Now take off your clothes. Slowly.”

I duck my head a little, raise my eyebrows, and take a couple of steps toward him. “As you wish, darling.”

He says nothing more, just stares at me, his legs still spread across the bike. I start by undoing the button and zip on my shorts, shrugging them off my hips and lowering them to the floor. I’m wearing lacy white panties underneath, but I decide to leave these on for the moment. Instead I pull my top over my head and let it dangle briefly on my arm before letting that drop as well, my eyes finding Richard’s and holding them.

He shifts on the bike, blinking and licking his lips.

“You’re not exactly ‘Easy Rider’ right now, are you?” I tease, reaching behind to undo my bra hookings.

He huffs at me but stays where he is. That’s fine for the moment. I’ve got the bra loosened now and peel it away from my damp skin, letting it fall over the rest of the clothes. I lean back to let Richard get a good look.

“That’s…they’re…very pretty,” he manages to say.

“Why, thank you, sir.” I bring my hands up, cup my titties, and pretend to examine them. “I think so, too.”

He kicks the stand down, finally, and gets off the bike, but he makes no move to take off his jacket, or his gloves, even in this heat. “Finish the job,” he says.

“Very well.” I grasp the waistband of my panties and twist my hips as I push the fabric down my thighs. I catch a whiff of myself as I do so. I’m excited already. The panties fall, and I step out of them.

“Leave the sandals on,” Richard orders, sounding a little more in control. “And you can come over here now.”

I walk over, not too quickly, until I’m standing in front of him. He lifts one gloved finger and runs it back and forth over my left nipple, which obediently begins to stand at attention. Then he does the same with my right nipple.

“You are a very good girl,” he whispers, tilting my chin up and leaning in for a quick kiss. “You are going to get a very nice ride.”

“Mmmmm….” I pull his face down again and kiss him longer and harder. My hand wanders down his belly until I find the hardness between his legs, and I squeeze. Richard gasps, and he pulls me close, smelling of leather and oil and sweat.

“Not yet,” he says at last, letting me go. “Impatient hussy. For that, you’ve earned a bit of a punishment.” He pushes me toward the bike. “Bend over.”

I smirk at him, but I do what he says, leaning over the seat of the Ducati, my arse raised in the air. I can hear Richard finally unzipping his jacket and taking it off.

“That’s good,” he muses. “Very nice.”

His gloved hands cup my buttocks, squeezing and jiggling them. Finally, there’s a slap across my right cheek. It stings a bit, but it’s exciting; I feel another rush, and my breathing quickens.

He slaps my left cheek, and I cry out, not so much from pain as from anticipation. I know he would never deliberately hurt me. But he knows my kinks, and he knows how to take advantage of them.

Two more swats, expertly administered. “I think that’s enough,” he says. “Your arse is a lovely shade of pink right now. But don’t you move quite yet,” he adds as I begin to stir.

I settle myself back down, wondering what he has in mind. I hear rustling behind me, and then Richard is touching my arse again, this time with the gloves off. He’s running the tips of his fingers softly over the areas that he had just spanked, and it’s delicious. I shut my eyes and try not to squirm too much as he spreads my cheeks and finds my wet pussy. One finger goes inside, while another brushes across my clit. I moan, pushing back against this contact, wanting more. Then I feel his mouth on me, his lips and tongue sweeping across the sensitive skin of my arse.

“Oh, god,” I say. “Oh, god, Richard, that feels so good.”

He teases me a little more, and then he pulls out his finger before things go much further. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart.”

I straighten up, feeling a little dizzy, and turn to face him. He smiles, brings his finger to his mouth, and licks it.

“You tease!” I grab his other hand and pull him toward the bedroom. He’s laughing until I shut the door behind us and kiss him again, hard this time.

“Your motor is running almost as well as my Ducati,” he whispers when he can catch his breath.

“ _Better_ ,” I hiss, grabbing at his t-shirt and yanking it over his head. Wasting no more time, I kick off my sandals and drop to my knees. I rub my face up against his leather trousers, relishing the smell and texture of the material. Richard’s hands stroke my hair as I pull everything down around his ankles and slip his hard cock into my mouth.

“Jesus,” he says. “You’re so good at that. _So_ good.”

I like hearing this, and I suck him deeper and harder for about another minute, until I’m sure that he’s good and ready. Then I let him go, get to my feet, and turn him towards the bed. He steps out of his clothes and lies down on his back, his face flushed with heat and desire.

I straddle him, leaning down for one more kiss before I ease him inside. He arches his back and gasps, those pretty brown eyes closing for a moment before focusing once more on my face. “Fuck me,” he whispers. “Ride me, you shameless woman.”

And I do. I rock back and forth, slowly at first, then picking up the pace. Richard supports me by the hips as I reach between my legs, find my clit, and begin to stroke it in rhythm with the movement of my hips. More sweat collects on my forehead and under my arms, but I don’t care – I’m fucking the man I love, and nothing else matters.

“Oh, Jesus,” Richard says. “Oh, sweet, fucking GOD.” His hands grip me hard, and he is coming, shaking, and moaning. This finally sends me over the edge, and my pussy contracts around him, giving us both that extra bit of satisfaction. For a few seconds we scream out our mutual pleasure to each other and to the hot room before things slowly begin to return to normal. 

I collapse across Richard’s chest, and he reaches up to caress my shoulders and back. I turn my head to kiss his cheek, lift my hips to slip him out of me, and nuzzle up against him, perspiration cooling us for the time being.

“Was the ride satisfactory, madam?” he asks after a bit.

I raise my head. “Quite. I do appreciate a man who knows how to use his tools.”

Richard laughs, and pulls me close.


End file.
